Haunted On Bourbon Street Part 6

"Oh c.r.a.p. I'm gonna need a keeper by the time the night is over." I scowled, but picked up my gla.s.s and took a long swig. "Ahhh."

Both of them laughed.

"I need two hurricanes," someone said behind me.

I swiveled, finding Holly, the a.s.sistant manager from the cafe, in a bar maid outfit.

"Hey, I didn't know you were working here, too," I said.

She shrugged. "Pyper needed help."

"That's a common theme."

"You're working here?" She looked me up and down and then focused on the stool.

"Yes, when Charlie's ready for me." I frowned as hostility crept into my awareness.

She gave a curt nod, grabbed the drink tray and left.

That was odd. What did I do to annoy her? I watched her serve the drinks to an oblivious couple, now sharing one chair. The intense desire and excitement whirling around them made me blush. It was then I realized the alcohol was chipping away at my emotional barrier. I pushed the gla.s.s aside.

"Quite the show they're putting on." Pyper sat next to me.

"You might want to offer a room for them to rent."

Pyper grinned. "Rooms by the hour. That'll really cla.s.s the place up." She leaned closer, pa.s.sing a gla.s.s to Charlie. "Fill me up, will you?" Her tired eyes drooped with fatigue.

"Do you ever sleep?" I asked.

Her smile vanished, and anxiety flowed over me in waves. "Not these days. Insomnia, I guess." She shook her head and pasted a smile back on her face. "Thanks again for helping out. I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

Pyper put her hand on my arm. "I just don't want you to feel taken advantage of. You're starting to grow on us, and we'd like to keep you around." She winked in Charlie's direction.

"d.a.m.n straight," Charlie piped in. "Best thing that's happened around here since Roy was ousted."

"Roy?" I asked.

"Previous owner before Kane bought the place. Serious jacka.s.s," Pyper explained. "Anyway, I've got some work to do. See you later." She waved and headed toward the offices.

An hour later, I wiped down the bar, wishing I had a sandwich. The rum, combined with the pain pills, hadn't been the best idea. My barriers had vanished altogether, and I hadn't been able to block out the rapidly intensifying energy in the club.

As I worked my way through the line of customers, Mr. Evil, the man I'd noticed the first time I'd come in the club, appeared at the table closest to the bar. As before, he held an unlit cigarette, but his anger was subdued this time. Maybe he'd invested in therapy. He stared intently at Pyper, never taking his eyes off her. I didn't blame him. She'd changed into a silver push-up bra and a tiny black leather skirt, no more than eight inches long. Just enough to give the illusion it covered her b.u.m.

"I thought you had the night off from stripping?" I asked when she joined us.

"So did I, but one of the girls hasn't shown up. Strippers." She rolled her eyes and laughed. "No one else was reachable, so I'm it." She searched the crowd until she spotted Kane. My heart did a little jig in my chest, until I saw him put his hand on Holly's back as he walked with her. He gave Pyper a wave. "That's my cue," she said and stepped toward the stage.

Right at that moment, the lights flickered off and on, and the music volume shot up to deafening levels. I cringed, my eardrums responding with sharp stabs of complaint, and squinted in confusion at the DJ booth. What the holy h.e.l.l?

A faint p.r.i.c.kle of glee entered my system, causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise. I turned toward the mental intrusion just as the tequila bottle I'd been holding ripped from my hand. Pain exploded through my skull.

Everything went black.

Groaning from the sunlight piercing my eyelids, I rolled over and shoved my face deep into the pillow. A flash of searing pain bolted me upright.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h!" I gasped as my hands flew to inspect the damage. The goose-egg-sized lump made my stomach turn. With my eyes closed I took a few cleansing breaths before I felt the mattress shift beside me. Peeking through my fingers, I peered down at a sleepy-eyed Kane. His tousled dark hair and the glimpse of his bare chest momentarily made me forget my aching head. I searched my muddled brain for some recollection of how I ended up in this predicament, but it was blank.

"Morning," mumbled my bed partner as he sat up. "Let me see." He moved my hands and gently touched my forehead.

I closed my eyes to block out his sheer maleness, hoping my hormones would downshift from overdrive. With his touch, concern, tenderness and protectiveness illuminated from him, wrapping around me like a blanket. I lay my head back down on the pillow, too exhausted to a.n.a.lyze this turn of events.

"How did I end up here?" I asked as I admired the rich walnut armoire and four-poster bed I was snuggled into.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" he asked.

I took a moment to think. "Not much. The last thing I remember is Pyper leaving the bar to go on stage, and suddenly everything went haywire." I glanced up at him. "I'm guessing I was knocked out."

He nodded.

"What got me?" I asked.

"Tequila bottle."

"Jesus! Taken out by Cabo Wabo. It was a full bottle too. Is it toast?"

A strong mix of humor and exasperation overrode his concern. Kane snorted. "Considering what happened next, I'd hardly say it matters much at this point."

I pushed myself up with my elbows and raised my eyebrows in question.

"Do you remember the lights flickering on and off and the music, that awful music?"

I nodded. The music had sped up, effectively giving us a Chipmunks' version of a Prince song. "That's the last thing I remember."

"That's because as Pyper left the bar and headed to the stage, all the loose bottles on the shelves shot up and circled her like a tornado. The one you'd been holding jerked out of your hand and bounced off your forehead on its way to join the others."

"Right. Flying liquor bottles." I laughed. "Come on, tell me what really happened. I ran into something again, right?"

Kane stared at me, shaking his head. His exasperation quickly stamped out any traces of humor.

I stared back finally remembering the tequila bottle flying from my grip.

s.h.i.t. A tornado. Just like the Honey Dust. A full minute went by as I digested the information. I found myself focusing on his shirtless chest and tan six-pack. My eyes glazed over as I imagined pulling the rest of the covers off him to explore further. Blinking, I caught his eye and flushed. He picked up a tee shirt and put in on.

"Sorry," I mumbled, my ears growing fiercely hot.

He just sat there, wearing that s.e.xy, c.o.c.ky smile of his.

Clearing my throat, I said, "Okay, so that really happened. Fill me in on the details."

Kane sat back against the headboard and handed me his pillow. I snuggled into it, catching a faint trace of his crisp, earthy cologne.

"I was headed to the bar when Holly hijacked me. We'd just turned toward my office when Prince turned into Alvin."

A private moment with Holly in his office? A vile image of the two of them kissing flashed through my mind. Irrational? Yes, but there it was.

He continued. "Then the music stopped, and all the bottles from the bar started flying, including the one you held. I saw you go down and ran to help."

"My hero," I said with a small smile.

He grimaced, looking pained. "It took me a moment to realize the bottles were circling Pyper. Thank G.o.d whatever it was stopped, because I don't think I could have broken through to get to her."

"They just stopped?"

"Yeah and shattered all over the floor. We're lucky everyone moved out of the way. Someone could have gotten seriously hurt."

Through my mounting horror I couldn't help wondering what the patrons had thought of bottles flying through the air. Suddenly I was intensely glad I'd been pa.s.sed out and missed the whole thing.

Kane reached out and gently caressed my forehead, again. "You had us worried."

The tenderness in his voice warmed me and scared me at the same time. Imagining s.e.xy times excited me, but getting intimate was another thing entirely. "Pyper wasn't hurt?"

He shook his head. "Just shook up."

I breathed a sigh of relief and sat up. For the first time I noticed I was wearing my own Nick and Nora owl pajama bottoms and camisole. Who'd changed my clothes? I pulled the covers up, feeling exposed.

"Pyper helped you into your pajamas," Kane said, reading my mind. "She also brought your toiletries. They're in my bathroom."

My stuff was mingling with his in the bathroom. Yikes. "Okay, thanks. But how did I get here?"

"I carried you."

Too bad I'd missed that.

"Then, I went back for Pyper. I'd left her in Charlie's care and by the time I got back, she'd settled down enough to insist we get your stuff so you'd be comfortable when you woke up. She stayed in her room-" he pointed to the wall on our right, "-and I stayed here with you, just to be sure you were okay."

Wait what? "You and Pyper live together?" Hadn't Charlie told me they weren't a couple? Maybe she was misinformed.

"No. This is her place, but I keep stuff here for when I stay over. I guess you could say this is sort of my room."

"Oh." I didn't know what to make of that. Friends with benefits?

His eyes crinkled as his lips quirked up. "We aren't a couple, just business partners and best friends. Sometimes I work so late I crash here."

"I didn't ask." His ego swelled, pushing on my mental barriers. c.r.a.p.

"Yes you did. You just didn't voice it."

I rolled my eyes and looked away, catching a glimpse at the clock. "s.h.i.t, I have to get to work." I jumped up, causing a dizzy spell and almost fell back onto the bed. I put one hand on my throbbing head and the other on the bedpost to steady myself.

Kane scooted over and eased me back down. "No you don't. Pyper said to tell you not to come in today. She's got it covered."

"But-"

"No, the last thing we need is you pa.s.sing out in the cafe. She'll call me if she needs help." He got up. "I'll go make you some breakfast. Stay here and rest, or grab a shower if you want. All your stuff is in the bathroom."

I nodded, watching him head out the door. Kane wasn't at all what I expected him to be. I'd judged him on the fact that he owned a strip club, and while I'd never met a strip club owner, I'd pegged him as a cross between Hugh Hefner and Larry Flint. In other words, a ladies' man who thought about s.e.x, women and more s.e.x. Why else would a person go into the strip club business? I suspected he had some of those qualities, as most men did, but clearly he was made of a lot more. He'd been genuinely concerned about me, took care of me, and he was still doing it this morning. Smiling to myself, a warm feeling of pleasure grew in my chest.

Not wanting to have breakfast in my pajamas I got up and headed for a bath. The oversized tub took up half the bathroom. Feeling deliciously pampered, I couldn't resist turning on the jets. I would have stayed there until my entire body shriveled into a raisin, but the smell of coffee and Kane's call that breakfast was ready lured me out.

My backpack sat on the counter filled with my makeup bag, toothbrush, deodorant and, to my surprise, the Honey Dust. Why Pyper thought I'd need it for an overnight when I was knocked out, I didn't know. But considering what happened the night before, I couldn't believe she'd included it. Was she possessed? I hadn't even touched it since the day I'd moved in. Maybe it was an act of defiance against the spirit. I set my shoulders and decided if she was brave enough, then so was I. What's a little Honey Dust compared to flying bottles?

"If you're here, Ghost, please stay away. You're not invited into my s.p.a.ce." Hopefully that would keep him out. Looking around to be sure I was alone, I lightly dusted myself with the sweet scent. The air didn't stir, and nothing suddenly appeared. Feeling victorious, I put the jar away, and dressed in the clean jeans and tank top Pyper had picked out for me. After pulling my hair into a bun and slapping some makeup on, I ventured into the rest of the apartment to join Kane.

I shuffled over the rich pecan hardwood floors, awestruck. I'd never been in a more soothing living room. The overstuffed mocha couch and loveseat were covered in peach pillows, complementing the vanilla cream walls. The aroma of fresh coffee filtered from the kitchen. Did the apartment always smell like freshly ground beans? It was directly above the cafe. I stopped in the adjoining dining room at the ten-foot-tall windows, letting the sun warm my face.

Kane appeared from the kitchen and stepped up behind me, handing me a steaming mug.

"Thanks," I said, glancing back over my shoulder.

He hesitated then brushed his warm lips along the nape of my neck, gently kissing me. The flick of his soft tongue melted any resistance I might have mustered.

My breath caught soundlessly.

"Humm," he murmured. "Honey Dust tastes better on you than I thought it would."

Chapter 6.

Kane moved away and retreated to the kitchen. I grabbed the window frame, steadying myself. Kane just kissed me. On my neck. Thank you, Pyper, and your silly Honey Dust fetish. I absently raised my mug and then sputtered as the scalding coffee seared my tongue. "Ow!"

"You okay?" Kane rounded the corner with two plates.